


The Dance

by bornforwar_archivist



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-31
Updated: 2006-12-31
Packaged: 2018-10-02 06:00:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10211123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bornforwar_archivist/pseuds/bornforwar_archivist
Summary: by StarcrossedBuffy goes to the Bronze to let off some steam and ends up getting more than she bargained for.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Delenn, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Born For War](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Born_For_War), which closed in 2015. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in March 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Born For War collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bornforwar).
> 
> __
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I own nothing with the exception of my original story idea. The show Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all of it’s characters belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox, et al.   
> RATING: NC-17 for PWP and nothin’ but PWP!   
> SPOILERS: Season 5, up to and including “Wrecked."   
> SUMMARY: Buffy goes to the Bronze to let off some steam and ends up getting more than she bargained for.   
> DISTRIBUTION: THC, StS, and OGL. Anyone else, ask and ye shall receive.   
> DEDICATION: To the person who is one of my best friends, my co-conspirator, my head cheerleader, and when need be, my shrink. Chris, this one is for you, luv.

She enters the Bronze dressed to kill. Not in the literal sense, mind you, for she isn’t here to slay. No, tonight is for playing and for having fun, and she’s chosen the perfect outfit for it.   
  
After much rummaging through her closet earlier, she had finally settled on a short, tight, black leather mini-skirt left over from her high school days. The lower half of her legs sports a pair of boots – also black leather – that end just below her knees. Inside the boots, a pair of socks keeps her feet from getting blisters. No stockings for this girl tonight, no sir. Her legs are bare from mid-thigh to kneecap.   
  
It is her blouse that draws all male eyes to her as she enters the dance club, though. If indeed the gauzy, see through scrap of material can be called such. Bare arms, bare back, and bare stomach are all clearly visible beneath the sheerness of the low cut, long-sleeved red top, as is the lacy, red bra she wears. A matching thong is hidden from view under her skirt.   
  
Her hair has been freshly washed, dried, and curled that very evening, and the blonde locks hang in soft ringlets around her face and down her back. Make-up is subtle and understated with the exception of her ruby red lipstick. A spicy, exotic fragrance wafts off of her as she makes her way to the dance floor. Gone are the smells of vanilla and daffodils that used to be associated with her.   
  
Out on the dance floor now and all male eyes are watching her. Various ones of them approach her, one by one, asking if she would care to dance. A shake of her head, a toss of the blonde ringlets, and she shoots them all down. Not because she doesn’t want to dance, mind you, but she simply prefers to do so alone.   
  
Tonight is for her – her pleasure, her enjoyment, and her fun. She has come here to relax, to let her hair down, and to forget about all of the troubles that currently plague her. She wants nothing to do with the males of her species. No, she has had enough of that lately, in the form of an annoying, peroxide blonde vampire. He is one of the things that she has come here to try and forget.   
  
But, unbeknownst to her, he is there, watching her from the shadows of the club. A beer in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other, he leans back against a beam underneath the stairs, a slightly bemused smile on his handsome face. She has been avoiding him like the bloody plague, so now his curiosity has been piqued as to why she is here. She knows that he often hangs out here when he has nothing better to do.   
  
He remains hidden beneath the stairs, though, deciding to bide his time by watching her. He will make his presence known to her when he’s ready to. His cerulean blue eyes lock onto her delicate frame as he takes a swig of his beer and a drag of his smoke. He drinks in her appearance and his eyes darken with desire.   
  
The house band segues from a fast tune into a slow, sultry one. A song custom made for sexy dancing. She smiles slightly as she raises her arms above her head and begins to rotate her hips in an age-old rhythm. Eyes closed, she focuses on the music and on the movements of her body.   
  
He begins to get a hard-on from watching her. Christ, where did she learn to dance like that? Every pair of male eyes in the club is on her, as well as a few of the female ones. He feels a sudden surge of jealousy. She is *his* god dammit! All those other gits would do well to keep their eyes, as well as their lusty thoughts, to themselves. If only he didn’t have that blasted chip holding him back, he’d bloody well clean house.   
  
Flagging a passing waitress, he orders another beer, as well as a shot of whiskey. He gives the young, buxom woman his best sexy smile and places a rather hefty amount of money on her tray. She returns his smile and winks at him as she walks away to get his drinks, her ass sashaying beneath her skirt.   
  
The waitress isn’t his type, though. Flirting with her is merely a way to pass the time until he decides to make his move. Let the little blonde on the dance floor wiggle her hips seductively. He can be patient, when warranted. The club is still way too crowded for what he has in mind. Until it thins out, he’ll simply use alcohol as a means of dulling the effect that the object of his desire is having on his entire body.   
  
After a couple of slow numbers, the band announces that it’s taking a break. She makes her way to an empty table, and is instantly surrounded by fawning males, all wanting to buy her a drink. She brushes them off, though, and asks a nearby waitress to bring her a glass of mineral water with a couple of slices of lemon. No alcohol for her tonight.   
  
The rest of the evening plays out that way. She dances for awhile, followed by a break to wet her whistle. He notices that she seems to prefer the slow songs for some reason, although she proves that she can hold her own on the fast ones.   
  
Close to midnight, the band ‘takes five’ once again, after announcing that they will play their last set when they come back. This time, she uses the opportunity to make a trip to the ladies room. All that water has got her bladder screaming for relief.   
  
After she finishes her business, she washes her hands, then takes a quick look at herself in the mirror. The lighting in the bathroom is crappy at best, but she can tell that her lipstick needs refreshing. A quick slide of one hand into the waistband of her skirt produces a slim tube, which she opens, applying a fresh coat of red to her lips.   
  
She makes it back out to the floor just as the band returns to the stage. The muscles in the back of her calves are starting to mildly protest, but she’s determined to stay until the last song is played. It’s been ages since she danced the night away. The last time was probably back in high school. Life was seemingly so much simpler back then.   
  
The earlier crowd has dissipated quite a bit by know, much to his delight. The timing is now perfect for him to make his move. A last swig of beer and a final draw on his cigarette, and he leaves his hiding place, making his way toward her. Time to remind her just whom it is that she belongs to.   
  
Eyes closed, mind focused on the music, she doesn’t realize that he’s behind her until his arms slip around her waist, pulling her back against his front. She stiffens for a moment before her nostrils detect his all too familiar scent and she relaxes in his embrace.   
  
While she had come here tonight to be alone, a small part of her had hoped that he would be here. He was the reason, after all, why she had dressed so sexily. She knew it would turn him on, and the bulge that was pressing into the curve of her backside told her that her plan had been successful. The corners of her mouth turn up in a smile, but her eyes remain closed.   
  
“Been here long?" She asks in a breathy, all together sexy voice.   
  
He leans in to kiss the side of her neck. “Long enough to see you flaunting your wares, pet."   
  
She pretends to pout. “You didn’t like what you saw?"   
  
Kissing her jawbone, he whispers, “Didn’t say that… just don’t like you showing off for every Tom, Dick, and Harry in the joint."   
  
Her pouting quickly turns to anger and she struggles to free herself from his embrace. He has an iron grip on her, though, and she soon realizes that it’s useless to try and get away from him. Instead, she attempts to wound him with her words.   
  
“I can damn well do what I please! You don’t own me!"   
  
One of his hands quickly covers a breast, squeezing it none too gently, and the action elicits a soft moan from her. “I beg to differ, luv…"   
  
“Get you hands off of me!" She commands as she once again tries to pull away from him.   
  
His reply is to fill his free hand with her other breast, cupping it as he begins to grind himself against her leather-clad ass. Leaning in, he nips her earlobe before taunting, “Make me – I dare you. Go ahead, cause a scene…"   
  
She won’t do it and he knows it. She’d no more draw attention to herself and her current situation than she would stroll down Main Street stark nude in broad daylight. She hates herself for having no will power where he is concerned.   
  
Since she can’t get away from him, she decides to give as good as she’s getting, part of her wanting to see how far he will carry this out. Rolling her hips sensuously, she presses her ass against his fly, causing him to moan. His hands travel from her breasts to her hips, and he holds her in place, keeping pressure right where he needs it the most.   
  
“I could do anything I wanted to right now and you’d let me," he taunts as his fingers seek out her nipples. He rolls them between thumb and forefinger, knowing that the lace of her bra is scraping against the delicate flesh.   
  
“Spike…" she utters breathlessly. She is rapidly losing control, yet feels quite powerless to stop him.   
  
“That is my name, Slayer."   
  
“We… can’t… not… here…" her voice trails off, as she is rapidly losing the ability to form coherent speech. All of her attention is focused on the pleasure pain that his fingers are causing.   
  
“Oh, I think *here* is a perfect place, sweetness. We’ve never done it in public after all."   
  
“Y-You wouldn’t… I can’t…"   
  
“I damn bloody well *will* and believe me, you *can*," he quietly assures her as his hands leave her breasts. He grabs hold of the front of his long leather duster and pulls it forward, partially enveloping her within its folds. The back half of her body is now hidden from view.   
  
One arm snakes around her waist to keep her from trying to leave, not that he thinks she will. No, she wants this, as much or more than he does. She has a kinky streak a mile wide. It was one of the first things he discovered about her, much to his great surprise and delight.   
  
His free hand finds it’s way up under the hem of her short skirt and he smiles at what he encounters there.   
  
“Wearing a thong, pet? Can I assume that it’s red and lacy just like your bra?"   
  
She can’t believe that she’s allowing him to do this. Never in a million years would she have ever thought that she’d allow anyone, much less a vampire, to fuck her while standing up on a dance floor. While they aren’t actually fucking, yet, she knows him and she knows what’s coming. Still, she makes no move to stop him, though. Part of her wants it, and the mere thought of it has been enough to soak her panties.   
  
“Fuck you!" She hisses at him through gritted teeth.   
  
“Now, now! Such a filthy mouth on such a pretty girl," he chides.   
  
He nimbly pulls her thong to one side and inserts his index finger into her warmth. He begins to pump the digit in and out of her in a slow, almost lazy manner, designed to heighten her desire.   
  
Tracing the delicate inner shell of her ear with his tongue, he whispers, “You want this, luv. You can’t even try and tell me that you don’t."   
  
The finger inside of her slides almost all the way out before thrusting back in. She bites the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out, even as she clenches around the digit.   
  
“You’re creaming at the mere thought of what I’m gonna do to you." As if to prove his point, he suddenly pulls his finger out and brings it up under her nose. She turns her head away and he puts the finger in his mouth, licking it lasciviously.   
  
“You’re a pig, Spike."   
  
“Yeah, I am, but you sure love to “rut" with me, don’t you?"   
  
She knows what he says is true, and a tiny part of her hates herself for it. As is always the case, though, she has no will power when it comes to him, or to her own desires.   
  
He grabs hold of one of her wrists, bringing her hand back behind her and placing it on his crotch. “Open my fly," he quietly commands. He could easily do it himself, but he wants to make her an active participant in this.   
  
“No," she half-heartedly protests.   
  
The grip on her wrist tightens almost to the point of pain. “Open my pants and take my cock out, or I swear I’ll bend you over the nearest table, bare your ass for everyone to see, and fuck you senseless."  
  
She knows that he means every word he’s just spoken. He’d do exactly what he just said and not give a good goddamn who was watching. There are certain drawbacks to sleeping with the undead, after all, such as the fact that they are basically amoral.   
  
Her fingers cup his erection through the denim of his black jeans and she squeezes him briefly before nimbly opening the button and zipper of his pants. Reaching inside, she draws out his hard length and runs her thumb over the tip.   
  
“Cor, Slayer! You’d be wise to stop that, or this little party will be over before it ever gets started."   
  
The back half of her body and the front half of his are still hidden from view by his duster. He grabs hold of the hem of her skirt and shoves it up over her hips, completely baring her backside. With the arm that’s still wrapped around her waist, he pulls her flush against him, even as the head of his cock begins to probe at her entrance.   
  
One quick, forward thrust of his hips, and he’s inside of. The look on her face is priceless, and he knows that anyone watching them knows damn well what the two of them are doing. His free hand moves back up to cup each of her breasts in turn, and he begins slowly, but insistently, moving within her.   
  
She remains still, almost frozen. Even though she knew this was coming, a small part of her can’t believe that he actually carried through with it, or that she actually allowed it. He’s fucking her in the middle of the dance floor and she’s mortified.   
  
“Come on, pet, work with me here. Start moving your hips like you’re dancing and no one will be the wiser." He knows that he’s lying to her, but he has to do something in order to get her moving.   
  
She nods her head and slowly begins rotating her hips. Plastering a smile on her face, she tries to act as naturally as possible, as if the two of them are nothing more than a couple doing a sexy dance.   
  
Releasing her breast, he cups one side of her jaw and turns her head towards his. Leaning in, he captures her mouth with his own. Pushing his tongue past her lips, he begins to kiss her very carnally, putting all of his pent up desire into it. To his relief, she begins to respond, her tongue dueling with his own for dominance.   
  
Now that he’s gotten her to acquiesce, his hand returns to her breasts and he moves it from one to the other, alternately teasing each of her nipples. She moans into his mouth, signaling that he’s won her over. Tightening his grip on her waist, he begins to thrust faster and harder, causing himself to moan.   
  
She does her part by clenching her fabled inner muscles around his cock, milking him for all she’s worth. Reaching back between their joined bodies with one hand, she finds his balls and lightly scratches them with her fingernails before cupping the heavy sacs and squeezing them.   
  
Tearing his mouth away from hers, he hisses, “Bloody hell, woman! If I weren’t already dead, you’d be killing me about now!"   
  
She smiles up at him sweetly and replies, “This was your idea, Spike, not mine. But, since you insisted on this little public sex act, I’m damn sure gonna see it through."   
  
He grins wickedly at her. “There’s my girl… I just *knew* you’d get off on this."   
  
“Shut up and fuck me!"   
  
“As milady wishes," he replies before taking her mouth with his own again.   
  
A couple of more hard, fast thrusts and he’s on the brink. From the way she is panting, he knows that she’s right there with him. There is no way that he can touch her clit without it being very obvious, but he knows another trick to send her tumbling over the edge.   
  
He pulls back from kissing her and leans down, blunt teeth scraping along the scar given to her by the poofter Angel. Fighting the overwhelming urge to slip into game face, he bites down hard, and she cries out as her orgasm overtakes her.   
  
Her inner walls clench almost painfully around him as she climaxes, touching off his own release. He resists the urge to scream her name as he shoots his cold seed deep inside of her.   
  
They remain joined for long moments afterward as they each struggle for composure. Eventually, he slides out of her and reaches down to tuck himself back into his pants. Button and zipper done up, he grabs hold of her skirt and pulls it back down over her hips and ass.   
  
Nibbling at her earlobe, he whispers, “I think a trip to the ladies room is in order for you, luv…"   
  
She pulls out of his embrace and whirls around to face him. Her hand shoots out and she slaps his smug face. “Bastard," she tells him before turning on her heel and stalking off in the direction of the restroom.   
  
He chuckles as he rubs his stinging cheek. She totally got off on what they just did and she knows it as well as he does. Cor, but she’s a hellcat, and he loves it.   
  
Inside the ladies room, she reaches for the faucet taps with trembling hands. She did it. She really did it. She just had sex, with Spike, in a public place, and she got off on it. Reaching for the paper towel dispenser on the wall, she yanks several of them out and wets them with lukewarm water.   
  
The bathroom is totally empty, save for her, but still, she takes her wet paper towels and closes herself in one of the stalls. Once she’s cleaned herself up the best she can, she drops the sodden mess into the toilet and flushes it.   
  
Back out at the mirrors, she runs her fingers through her hair and applies a fresh coat of lipstick, then washes her hands. She’s stalling and she knows it. She hopes that if she wastes enough time in here that he’ll be gone when she emerges. The Bronze is getting ready to close, though, and she can’t very well hide out in here all night. Taking a deep breath, she swings open the door.   
  
He is, of course, waiting for her. He’s leaning against the wall next to the ladies room, smoking a cigarette. A half-empty bottle of beer is clutched in his other hand. He stands fully upright as the door opens and turns to face her.   
  
“What are you still doing here?" She asks, none to pleased to see him.   
  
“It’s late, luv. Thought I’d walk you home."   
  
“Drop the bullshit chivalry act, okay?" She brushes past, heading for the exit.   
  
He follows her, setting his beer bottle on an empty table and quickly crushing out his cigarette in an ashtray. Catching up to her just outside the club, he grabs hold of her arm.   
  
“Let go of me!" She exclaims as she tries to wrench her arm from his tight grip.   
  
“I *said* I was gonna walk you home, and that’s that."   
  
She turns to face him. “What if I don’t want to go home?" The corners of her mouth turn up in a seductive smile.   
  
His eyes travel the length of her body before coming to rest on her face. He arches his scarred eyebrow and asks, “What exactly did you have in mind?"   
  
Placing a hand on his chest, she scratches him through his tee shirt. “I thought we could go back to your place and dance some more…"   
  
“Okay," he agrees. “But this time, let’s take our clothes off."   
  


The End


End file.
